


All In

by Infie



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-04
Updated: 2015-02-04
Packaged: 2018-03-10 12:18:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3290084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Infie/pseuds/Infie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver has stopped dangling maybes, but how can he convince Felicity that he's not going to just change his mind?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Assume spoilers for Season 3 up to and include 3.11

He's been back for three weeks, and she'd barely spoken to him. He'd tried, several times, but she was a goddamned master of deflection. For all her honesty and forthright nature, he was starting to think that she was wasted as a computer genius. If she put her mind to it, she could rule the world and never have a single conversation about how they all came to be subjugated to her will. Everyone would just sort of end up with her in charge and a distinct sense of dissatisfaction at all arguments to the contrary being coolly set aside. Again. 

He really did count himself lucky that she'd decided against supervillainy. Not least because he couldn's see himself denying her anything and he really wanted to stay on the heroic side of the spectrum. He had the feeling that Darth Felicity would have thought a Darth Arrow henchman would be just the ticket, and then he'd have had to figure out a way to make lightsaber arrows. 

Diggle (Darth Diggle, his brain supplied traitorously) gave him a sideways look as he cleaned his sidearm at the weapons table. "Oliver, are you humming the Imperial March?" 

"No." 

"Okay then." Digg clicked the slide into place and jacked it once to check the action. "I'm heading out. Lyla's making dinner." He smiled and it lit up his whole face. "She'll be happy to see me home for a change. It's nice not being a vigilante every night again." He glanced at the computer table, where Felicity's shoulders had tightened noticeably, and clapped Oliver on the arm as he passed. "If I haven't said it yet, I'll say it now. It's good to have you home, brother."

Oliver nodded with a small smile. "You've said it. Repeatedly."

"It's true every time, man." Digg shrugged on his jacket and headed for the stairs. The click of the door was loud in the heavy silence he left behind, the second thunk of the lock engaging seeming to echo in the space.

"Felicity..."

"I don't want to talk, Oliver."

"We have to." He moved over to stand behind her, almost close enough to touch. "Please."

She hit the keyboard viciously to freeze her screen, then spun her chair around so fast he was glad he hadn't stood closer. "Fine," she snapped. "Talk."

He licked his lips. "I love you," he said. 

The pain that flashed across her face took his breath away. She took a deep breath and shook her head, and it was gone. Somehow she met his eyes steadily and smiled. "Thank you for telling me so," she said. "Before you left. It meant... a lot, to me. When we heard. That you were... d-dead." Her voice broke and he shifted, but she held her hand up firmly and he stilled. She bit her lip and he could see her visibly drawing herself back together. "It didn't make it any easier or any better, but it gave me something to remember." She fought herself into giving him a smile that made his chest hurt to look at. 

"I want it to be something you hear a lot more," he said softly. "I want it to be something I get to say to you every day."

"Don't do this, Oliver," she blurted, jolting to her feet. She turned her back to him and gripped the edges of the table until her knuckles turned white.

"Why not?" He could feel her shutting down, locking herself away from him, and it made the knot in his chest cinch tighter with every breath. It made the frustration rising in his throat worse, made the pressure behind his eyes start to throb in time with his pulse. "You said you don't want 'maybes'. This isn't a maybe. This is a _yes_."

"No it's not," she straightened her shoulders and turned back to face him, her irritation rising to meet his. He threw his hands up and she glared. "It's _not _. You're just reacting to the situation, you know you are. You mean it right now, in this moment, but tomorrow you'll be pushing me away again. Or, you'll be telling me we need to be a secret, or hide from everyone. Or you'll be leaving..." Her hand lifted to her throat. "You'll be leaving me behind again."__

"I came back, Felicity!" The pressure in his head was resolving into panic. Why wouldn't she believe him? 

"You died, Oliver! I believed that you were dead, do you get that? Do you understand? How much that hurt? How horrible that was, knowing that you died, that the last words you said were that you loved me? That you loved me, and despite that, despite knowing how much I wanted us, that you were more comfortable walking to your death than you were taking the risk of being with me? That you were more afraid of trusting in us and actually living your life than you were of facing R'as al Ghul and ending it?" She was shaking.

With grief, he realised through the fog of anger. One of her arms was wrapped around her stomach as though holding herself together, the other at her throat as if she was choking. And she _was_ choking, with grief. For him.

Oliver licked his lips and forced his boiling emotions back under control. "I dreamed, while I was recuperating," he said slowly. Somehow his voice came out with a calm he didn't feel. "I dreamed I that I chose to stay, and it made you so happy... and then I still died. Choosing to stay killed me just as surely as choosing to go. I think it would... it would change me to give it up for real." He clenched his hands into fists to keep from reaching for her. "But I would do it, if that's what you need me to do."

Her eyes widened in horror. "I don't want you to give it up! I don't want you to give any of it up. I don't want you to _want to _give it up!" It was her turn to take a steadying breath. "Oliver, I know you. I know all the different parts, and I don't want you to change who you are. I love who you are. Oliver, Mr. Queen, Arrow, Hood, Vigilante, Brother, Son, Playboy, Protector, Killer, Fighter, Friend... If I believed... really believed... that you would commit to being with me, wholeheartedly? That you wouldn't just... change your mind the next time I got hurt, or that we were threatened? That you wouldn't be pushing me away in some half-assed attempt to 'keep me safe' and martyr yourself, then maybe. Maybe I could justify taking the risk. But I don't believe that, Oliver. I believe that all those different parts of you are pulling you in different directions, and I think that's why you keep changing your mind. Maybe Oliver wants me and Arrow needs me and so one day it's all ok, but the next day Oliver's tired and Arrow is scared and so it's 'we can't do this', and 'I can't be with someone I really care about', and I can't go through all of that again. I won't."__

Desperation. He was choking on it. "I just, Felicity. I want us to be together."

Felicity drew herself to her full height. "Well, Oliver, that's not up to just you," she said slowly, with careful dignity. She picked up her coat and purse. "To be in a relationship, both people need to agree. You wanting it doesn't make it so. Not for this." She lifted her chin proudly. "I'll see you tomorrow."

He managed, somehow, to nod. He couldn't bring himself to watch her leave, and the sound of the door shutting behind her jarred through him like a blow. His breath left him in a rush and he swayed, managing to catch himself on the back of her chair before his legs actually gave out.

Somehow, _somehow_ , he needed to fix this.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver takes a chance on explaining his feelings to Felicity: less verbal, and a way she'll definitely understand.

Tuesday nights had somehow become poker nights. Felicity even had a little green felt cloth that she laid over their only round table, just large enough to seat maybe as many as six people comfortably. They ran hands of Texas Hold'em, shifting deal each hand. When Oliver came in, the games were well underway already. Based on the piles of chips, Digg and Felicity were in a dead heat for chip leader with Roy a very distant third. As Oliver reached the floor, Roy picked up a small stack and tossed it in the pot. The flop and turn were already showing; two eights, a nine and a deuce, he noted absently. 

"Raise fifteen." He glanced at the four chips he'd put in, then rolled his eyes at himself. "Shit! Put in twenty. I didn't mean to bet that much." He reached for the pile.

"There are no take backs in poker, Harper. You made the bet, you pay the price." Felicity's voice was hard. "I grew up in Vegas. We do things to people who renege on bets." She leaned forward, eyes narrowed dangerously. " _Bad_ things."

Oliver grinned at the menace she exuded. Darth Felicity, peeking out. 

"But..."

"No buts. Don't bet what you aren't willing to lose." She looked fierce. Her eyes flickered to Oliver with an expression he couldn't read. His breath caught in his chest and he knew that everything he was feeling was written all over his face. She blinked and looked back at the table.

"Ok, ok, geeze." Roy drew back his hand quickly. "I guess I should be glad there's no desert near Starling."

"Yes, you should." Felicity looked at Diggle. "John?"

Diggle grinned and dropped in his twenty. "Oh, I totally call."

Felicity nodded and matched. "Me too." She tapped her finger and then drew the river. "Jack of spades," she said. "Roy?"

Roy pursed his lips, then tapped the table to indicate a check. Digg did the same. Felicity sighed. "You guys are no fun," she said, flipping over her jack and ten. Digg showed his seven and nine with a shrug. 

"Woo!" Roy tossed his pair of aces onto the table and shuffled his shoulders in a little dance. "Finally I won one!"

"Careful, Roy," Oliver said as he approached the table. He flexed his fingers to try and get the fine tremble running through him to stop. "That's the dead man's hand." 

"Well then I die happy," Roy raked the chips in front of him and started stacking gleefully. "These two have been kicking my ass."

"It's a fun pastime," Diggle admitted. 

Oliver took a breath and nodded with a small smile. "I can believe that." He pulled out a chair, hung his jacket on the back and sat down smoothly, ignoring the twist in his stomach. "Deal me in."

"Buy in is two hundred," Digg told him. 

"And we don't take cheques," Roy said firmly. Felicity nodded. 

"No problem." He took two hundred out of his wallet and handed it to Digg, who pushed over a stack of chips for him. "I can cover it." 

Roy shuffled. "Blinds are ten and five," he said, and Oliver obediently pushed his ten in as Digg set in his five. Felicity was studiously not looking at him, and so he let himself just _look_ at her for a moment. She'd let her hair down and the blue lights of the cave turned the brilliant gold silver. The reflection in her glasses hid her eyes from him. Digg shifted beside him, and when he looked over gave a pointed look at his thumb rubbing rapidly against the tips of his fingers. He slid his hand under the table to hide it as Roy dealt. 

"Your bet, Oliver," Felicity said, finally looking at him. She had the perfect poker face, giving him nothing. 

He lifted his cards and gave them a glance before returning them to the table top. His lips compressed briefly, then he lifted his eyes and stared at Felicity evenly. "Raise ten," he said, dropping in a ten dollar chip. 

Digg nodded. "That's fifteen to me, and I call." He tossed his matching bet into the pile. 

Felicity narrowed her eyes at Oliver. "I think it's pretty early to be betting big," she said, sliding her chips in. "I call." 

Roy looked between them with a frown. "Call," he said and matched before dropping a card and then dealing the flop. 

"Ace of hearts, king, nine of spades," he said and whistled. "Nice."

"I bet thirty," Oliver said immediately, suiting action to words. 

Diggle blinked. "Ok," he said. "I match your thirty and raise you... ten."

"Huh." Felicity tilted her head. He could almost hear her thinking through the probabilities. "I. Hmmm. I call." She slid her forty into the pot. 

Roy sighed and tossed his cards to the discard pile. "I'm out," he said, and rose to his feet. "Deal me out next hand, I'm going to grab us some dinner."

"Sit down," Oliver said without looking at him. "You're the dealer, you don't get to leave mid-hand."

"Oh." Roy sat. "Right. Sorry." He drummed his fingers on the table. 

This time Oliver did look at him. "Deal the turn, Roy."

"Right! Sorry. Uh. Again." Roy burned a card and dealt the turn. "Jack of spades. Very interesting." He looked around the table. "Ok, Oliver... you're up."

"Raise thirty." Oliver watched the little frown deepen and felt his pulse pick up. Yep, she definitely had a good hand. 

Digg rubbed his chin and glanced at the big pile of chips he had. "Yeah, all right," he said. "I call, and raise another ten."

Felicity raised her eyebrow at him. "You sure you want to do that? I don't know if Lyla would approve of you losing the rent money."

"She makes enough for both of us." Diggle waggled a finger at her cards. "You worry about your own rent."

Felicity tapped her finger against her cards, eyeing them both closely. "Ok, I call." She dropped fifty dollars into the pot. Oliver matched.

"Roy?"

"Yeah." Roy was staring a bit bug-eyed at the pile of chips. He shook himself and dealt the river. "Ten of spades." They all stared at the card for a minute, taking in the implications and possibilities.

Oliver was watching Felicity, but she gave nothing away. "I bet forty," he said, and there it was. The frown that said she was figuring the hands. His heart leaped in his chest and he clenched his fist to keep from sliding his fingers together. He could feel his pulse in his ears and he was sure it had to show in his throat. 

Diggle was watching Oliver, and he didn't know what Digg saw in his face but it made Digg purse his lips and toss his cards in. "I don't think this pot is meant for me," he said. His pair of kings lay face up on the table. 

Felicity blinked then tilted her head at Oliver and grinned. "I guess it's just you and me, Mr. Queen," she said. 

"That is the way I like it," he said, lifting his chin. He felt the smile tug at the corners of his mouth, but it was taking all his concentration to keep his nervousness locked away. 

Felicity studied him a long moment. He could tell that she saw right through the façade, and could tell that she knew he knew it. She was still thinking this was a game though, and when the frown smoothed away he knew she'd bite. "You're bluffing," she said decisively. "I call." Oliver felt his face relax from the frown he hadn't realised he was making. "And raise you..." She looked at the sole remaining chip in front of him. "Ten."

Relief. 

"I raise," Oliver said. He felt... calm. Like he felt when he drew back the bowstring, in that perfect moment between inhale and exhale, when everything would crystallize into stillness. His heartbeat settled. He felt himself relax into it and almost laughed. 

"With what, dude? You don't have anymore chips." Roy curled his hand around his own stack protectively. "I'm not floating you a loan."

"I raise." Oliver repeated deliberately, then stood. Slowly he took the keys to his motorcycle and placed them in the pot, removed his watch and added it.

"What? Is this strip poker all of a sudden?" Roy demanded, half joking.

Diggle glared at him fiercely. "Shut up, Roy."

Oliver ignored them both, only concerned with _her_. Felicity bit her lip. 

"Oli..."

"Shhh," he said. His eyes never left her face. "I'm not done."

He took out his wallet and dropped it onto the table, then took off his tie and put it down as well. "Oliver," he said. Next came a sheaf of folded papers from the inner pocket of his suit jacket, which fell open as he set them on the table just enough to show the Queen Consolidated corporate seal at the top. "Queen." Finally, he reached to the table behind him and picked up the hood and mask, tossing them onto the pile. " _Arrow_." He shoved it all to the centre of the table and then deliberately leaned forward, placing his bare hand in the pot. The chips covered his hand to the wrist. 

Still holding her eyes, he said clearly, " _Me._ I am _all in_."

"Yeah, we should go." Digg made a move to get up, aborted by Oliver's free hand grabbing his shoulder and pushing him back down. 

"Sit down, Digg." He gritted out. His eyes never left Felicity's. To her, he said, "I'm not hiding from this. Everything is on the table."

"I don't..." Felicity closed her eyes and gave a quick shake of her head before smiling at him with forced cheer. Giving him an out. "I don't think I can match that bet."

He didn't need the out. He didn't _want_ the out. 

"Felicity," Oliver said in his softest voice, leaning further over the table, eyes fixed steadily on hers. "You don't have to match the bet. You just have to call."

She remained silent, tears welling. 

"Felicity," he said again, gently, almost inaudible against the sound of the computer fans. "Call the bet. _Please._ "

Her breath left her in a shuddering rush, almost a sob. Her fingers clenched against her cards, crumpling them, and for a heart-stopping moment he thought she was going to throw them in, to fold and walk away. 

"I call," she said, and dropped them back on the table face up: Ace, queen of spades. A royal flush. 

"Oh, thank god," he said and vaulted the table to get to her that much faster. He hauled her to her feet but stopped short of pulling her into his arms. He lifted his trembling hands to her face, cradling it between his palms as he just stared at her from inches away. The bubble of emotion in his throat was choking him, cutting off anything he would have said if he'd been able to find anything to say. Relief and gratitude warred in his chest. She lifted a hand to his cheek and he felt dizzy with the sensation. His legs went weak and he suddenly found himself on his knees, arms wrapped around her waist and his face buried in her stomach. He started to shake. 

In some far off part of his mind he heard the rustling sounds of Diggle and Roy taking their leave, heard Felicity's distracted response, but every other iota of his attention was focused on the feel of her in his arms; the warm scent of her skin as he breathed, the subtle tensing and relaxing of her abdomen as she cradled his head. The heat of her body, radiating through her clothes and sinking into his body everywhere they touched.

"Oliver," her voice was tear-filled as she held his head against her, stroking soothing fingers through his hair and down his neck. "Oliver, look at me."

He pulled back just enough to tilt his head back and look up into her face. She cupped his chin and shifted, forcing his arms looser until she could kneel with him. She rested her forehead against his, and the touch almost undid the last shreds of his composure.

He took a deep breath, and miraculously that pressure in his chest was gone, replaced by warmth. He drew away so that he could look her in the eyes. "I love you," he told her seriously, "completely."

She nodded, unable to speak. The tears spilled over. 

"Really," he insisted, wanting to make sure she believed him this time. "All of me, _every part of me_..."

She nodded again, smiling gloriously at him through her tears. "I know, I promise, Oliver, I believe you. I really believe you." She licked her lips and gave a shaky laugh. "Those were some pretty high stakes, Mr. Queen."

"No," he shook his head minutely. "It was all yours anyway. There is no Oliver, no Queen, no Arrow, without you. Without you, I'm someone else." His hand lifted as if of its own volition, touching her face, stroking over her hair. His other arm was still banded around her waist and he was pretty sure it wouldn't be letting go without a fight. For the first time his body, his brain, and his heart were all in complete agreement. He took a deep breath, just soaking her in. "And you can't give it back either. There are no take backs in poker." 

She huffed out a small laugh, and kissed him.

**Author's Note:**

> A bit overwrought, but so be it.  
> I should add - It's been so long since I wrote in an active fandom I forgot how nice it is to get a lot of feedback fast. So thank you to all kudos and reviews - they are hugely appreciated.


End file.
